AGAPE. What sign of madness do you see in us?
DIOCLETIAN. Is it not madness to give up practising an ancient religion and run after this silly new Christian superstition?
AGAPE. You are bold to slander the majesty of Almighty God. It is dangerous.
AGAPE. To you, and to the state you rule.
DIOCLETIAN. The girl raves. Take her away.
CHIONIA. My sister does not rave. She is right.
DIOCLETIAN. This maenad seems even more violent than the other! Remove her also from our presence, and we will question the third.
IRENA. You will find her as rebellious and as determined to resist.
DIOCLETIAN. Irena, you are the youngest in years. Show yourself the oldest in dignity.
DIOCLETIAN. Bow your head to the gods, and set an example to your sisters. It may rebuke and save them.
IRENA. Let those who wish to provoke the wrath of the Most High prostrate themselves before idols! I will not dishonour this head which has been anointed with heavenly oil by abasing it at the feet of images.
DIOCLETIAN. The worship of the gods does not bring dishonour to those who practise it, but, on the contrary, the greatest honour.
IRENA. What could be more shameful baseness, what baser shame, than to venerate slaves as if they were lords?
DIOCLETIAN. I do not ask you to worship slaves, but the gods of princes and the rulers of the earth.
IRENA. A god who can be bought cheap in the market-place, what is he but a slave?
DIOCLETIAN. Enough of this presumptuous chatter. The rack shall put an end to it!
IRENA. That is what we desire. We ask nothing better than to suffer the most cruel tortures for the love of Christ.
DIOCLETIAN. Let these obstinate women who dare to defy our authority be laden with chains and thrown into a dungeon. Let them be examined by Governor Dulcitius.
DULCITIUS. Soldiers, produce your prisoners.
SOLDIERS. The ones you wanted to see are in there.
DULCITIUS. Ye Gods, but these girls are beautiful! What grace, what charm!
DULCITIUS. I’m in love! Do you think they will fall in love with me?
SOLDIERS. From what we know, you will have little success.
DULCITIUS. A few sweet words will work wonders!
DULCITIUS. Then I shall woo in another fashion—with torture!
DULCITIUS. Lock them in the inner room—the one leading out of the passage where the pots and pans are kept.